An Order

[Sarge Potteiger]

A single note was set on the desk [member="Anaya Fen"] used to run her operations. It had a single sentence written on it in surprisingly neat strokes of a graphite pencil.

Find her body. Do not fail.

500,000 cr if you have to have an incentive.

Set atop the note was a single hollowpoint handgun shell, used for a paperweight.

Vague. But she'd figure it out.

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

The note passed hands, along with the hollowpoint round as people tried to track their CEO. Catching her upon her ship, her Kiffar HRD laid the note and the hollowpoint round before her. "What is this?" she asked picking up the note and reading it. Forehead creasing into a frown.

Picking up the shell she rolled it between her fingers, her lips curling into a smile, she knew those rounds all to well, she'd had three pulled out of her after all. "Sarge you schutta." Anaya was well connected, she'd infiltrated the One Sith, but who exactly was her.

"There were some high profile casulties at Coruscant, were there not, Parla?"

"Yes my lady." replied the HRD stiffly "Mia Monroe, a former mandalore and Cira, Lady Protector of Omega Protectorate."

For a moment she said nothing. "I want you to track [member="Sarge Potteiger"] down personally. Tell him I will do what I can, and the credits won't be necessary. Make it clear, that I will only find her. I will not extract her. Then stay close to him so I can contact him easily."

"Yes, my lady."

Anaya watched the HRD go, still turning the round between forefinger and thumb. She flicked it up into the air and caught it in her palm, fist closing about it. Kark the credits, Sarge would owe her for this one.